Circles of Blood
by Hiron Otsuki
Summary: Newly graduated Herald Jaron is flung into the middle of a diplomatic mission to the far West, to a country that might hold the very last of Urtho's ancient army. But millenia of isolation can change civilizations, and not always for the better.
1. Can't Step in the Same River Twice

And lo! behold! The sequel to Circles of Change, which you should probably read before you read this, otherwise you won't understand the Shored/Tenri/Jaron interaction.

* * *

What I love most about rivers is:  
You can't step in the same river twice  
The water's always changing, always flowing  
But people, I guess, can't live like that  
We all must pay a price  
To be safe, we lose our chance of ever knowing  
What's around the riverbend  
Waiting just around the riverbend

**Chapter One: Can't Step in the Same River Twice**

"How far away are we?"

:_Another couple of days, I think,_: Gaelan said, craning his head back to look at Jaron with one ridiculously large blue eye.

"Ah." He lapsed back into silence, failing to notice the curious looks he was getting from his companions.

"Um, Jaron?" the girl beside him fumbled, blushing when he turned to look at him.

"Hmm?" He'd established days ago that he would be the one who would be "there" most often, so it was unsurprising that the freshly-graduated Collegium mage knew who she was riding next to.

Lori cleared her throat and fiddled with her brand new mage robes, refusing to look him straight in the eyes. "Do you--what do you think it will be like when we get there?"

"I don't really know," he said honestly. "The abandoned city is supposed to be fairly technologically advanced, but the building structures are supposedly fairly normal."

"Normal?"

"You know, walls and a floor supporting a ceiling?"

"Oh," Lori said, flushing. "I guess that makes sense."

She turned back to herself, offering no more conversation.

Jaron was glad of it, and turned in on himself, trying to figure out why he himself was here.

Little less than a month ago, the Haighlei Ambassador stationed in Haven had gotten a message saying that one of the floating barges headed up towards Valdemar had come upon what appeared to be an abandoned city.

No one knew where the inhabitants were or where they had gone, but it looked like the city had been deserted fairly recently, and one of the reports had mentioned fresh graves outside the city, indicating that whatever had driven them out, it had used death of some kind to propel it.

The curiousness of the combined Kaled'a'in and the Haighlei had driven them to search the city, but what they had found were things very similar to what had apparently been found in Urtho's Tower in the Dhorisha Plains. Smaller telesons and more advanced things that hadn't been specified, but enough to mount an expedition of Heralds, three mages fresh from the Collegium, and a few of the human Silver Gryphons residing in Valdemar. Added to that were packbeasts, Companions of course, and three dyheli, one of whom was a king-stag should they find anything regarding language and an emergency requiring the use of it. When two Artificers and a Healer had requested to come along, the "scouting party" had turned into a full expedition, and now Jaron was required to keep an eye on Lori, both artificers, and the mules. The other two mages could keep after themselves; both were teachers at the collegium, and apparently very responsible.

One was a White Winds Adept apparently descended from the great Adept Kethryveris, and he was damned proud of it. The other was a former Fireflower mage who had deigned to teach at the mages Collegium, and she got on Jaron's nerves immensely. Shored was the only one who really dealt with her; Tenri didn't come out much these days.

The Healer was less annoying, and mostly kept to himself and the other Heralds. Jaron himself was the lone Herald-mage in the party. He'd graduated from the Collegium as three people proficient in Fetching, Foresight, and the Mage-Gift, and after a four-and-a-half year intern--three times the normal length so that each facet of him could get all the experience that they needed--they'd been assigned to this journey to seemingly the ends of the earth, unable to Gate since no one in the Kaled'a'in party had been anywhere in or near Valdemar and no one in Haven had been where the Kaled'a'in were.

Another few hours passed quietly, and when they finally bedded down for the night again next to a stream in the middle of the uninhabited forest, Jaron took the first watch, easily falling asleep when it was over and waking up in the morning before anyone could shake him awake.

The next few days passed like that, blurring in with the rest of the long month, and when Gaelan finally announced in midday that they were within a mile of the city, Jaron could have wept with relief.

They hadn't passed any fields to supply foodstuffs for the city, which was strange in and of itself, and their arrival to the city was as abrupt as a fall in the Terilee.

One minute they were riding through thick undergrowth in a forest seemingly as old as the old Empire, and in the next everyone was halting, staring in wonder at the huge gray wall and open space that separated the wall from the forest.

:_Masel says that the Kaled'a'in are inside,_: Gaelan said.

"Well, if he says so..."

Taking on his authority as the leader, Jaron turned to Masel, the king-stag. "If you wouldn't mind leading us," he began reasonably, but before he could continue, Masel nodded his head in a very humanlike gesture and trotted off to the left of the wall, leading them south for a good ten minutes.

During that ten minutes, Jaron got a very good look at the wall, and what he saw puzzled him.

The wall was made of stone; he was sure of that much, but what kind of stone and how much of it he couldn't tell. The entire wall--for the seven or so furlongs that they traveled--seemed to be made out of one long piece of stone, unbroken and unmortared.

They came upon the entrance to the walled city suddenly, and from there Jaron took the lead.

_I can't mess this up,_ he thought to himself. Nineteen he might only be, but he had to act like a true leader here and prove himself. This was his first real assignment, and he would do things the right way.

A circle of Kaled'a'in greeted them inside the gates, and from what Jaron could see beyond them, they'd been busy, taking the first houses near the entrance to inhabit and exploring the rest. Improvised flags of bright, extra clothing decorated all of the doors in sight, and Jaron guessed that they were there to mark which homes had been searched. He didn't see any Haighlei, but they could have been continuing the sweep of houses. The Kaled'a'in watched quietly as the members of the party came to a stop. The Heralds had carefully arrayed themselves to make the best impression, bracketing the sides of the party and placing one Herald between every two nonHerald.

Jaron dismounted neatly, swinging off of his Companion in perfect sync with the other Heralds. They made an impressive show of it, but the Kaled'a'in failed to look suitably impressed.

One of the women in the welcoming party came forth, and Jaron took that as his own cue. He stepped forward with a solemn smile on his face. "Zhai'helleva," he said, watching the other's face carefully, wondering whether she knew a language he was fluent in.

She smiled. "Welcome," she said in gently accented Valdemaran, much to his relief. "Was your journey long?"

:_Too long,_: Shored murmured.

"Long enough," Jaron replied neutrally.

"Then I welcome you to the city of Tansho," she said, waving her arm behind herself in an expansive gesture. "We've figured out the name, at least." The last was said in a slightly sour tone of voice.

"Tansho," Jaron said, wondering what it meant.

"Do you wish to unpack and settle in?"

"Please."

"Then be welcome."

With audible sighs of relief, the Healer, Artificers, and mages dismounted and filtered through the crowds, presumably to find somewhere to stable their horses and find some homes near the gates that hadn't been taken over yet. The Silvers wandered off, presumably to find people they knew.

Jaron was left with the welcoming committee and the Heralds, as well as the dyheli, who were waiting patiently off to the side.

:_You can go,_: he told Masel.

:_Thank you,_: the stag said, polite as always. He led the other dyheli off to destinations unknown.

Now Jaron and the Heralds were truly alone.

"Is there anything we can do to help you at the moment?" Jaron asked, and the other Heralds unconsciously shifted to stand as unified, tall, proud pillars of wisdom and ready assistance.

"No," said the only speaking Kaled'a'in.

Jaron smiled. "May I at least have your name? Mine is Jaron."

"I am called Treehugger k'Leshya," the woman said.

Jaron almost choked at the name, but kept his composure, though inside of him Tenri and Shored were dying of laughter.

"Nice to meet you, Treehugger."

Jaron spent the rest of the day exploring the city, going further than anyone else had. While the Kaled'a'in were methodical in their searching methods, going house-by-house, Jaron headed straight for the center of the city.

It wasn't as easy as he'd hoped. The streets were winding and difficult to navigate, and each house seemed too similar to the one like it. By the time one candlemark passed he was getting tired and dizzy from all of the repetitive scenery, and considered giving up.

:_I can continue for you,_: Shored offered, and Jaron "looked" at him in surprise.

"Would you do that?"

:_I'm as eager to explore this place as you are. I may not like people, but I like this city, and it could be fun._:

Jaron acquiesced.

The familiar ease with which Shored slipped into using the body didn't bother Jaron at all, and he sat behind Shored's eyes as they wandered farther into the city.

They finally reached the center, and Jaron was hard-pressed to keep from snatching the body back and running for the building they'd come upon. It was a huge, wonderful slate grey structure, nearly like the drawings he'd seen of the Tower in the middle of the Dhorisha Plains

Tall and thin and magnificent, he wondered how they hadn't seen the strange tower from the outskirts of the city, and when Shored looked back, Jaron realized what had happened.

He hadn't really taken notice of it, but the buildings had gotten progressively higher and higher as they'd closed in on the tower, and there had been an incline on the street he hadn't noticed before, putting the tall tower seemingly on height with the rest of the buildings, when in reality it had to be at least three times the height of the buildings on the outskirts.

As they neared the base of it, he noticed something very interesting. The tower itself might be even taller than he thought; around the base of the tower was a chasm that stretched very far down; it turned black around what he guessed was forty feet down, and he couldn't see farther than that. Small stone bridges led into the tower itself, stretching over the gap around it, which had to be twenty feet wide at the least.

What _was _this place?

He didn't go inside; not today, for there might still be something sheltering inside it. So he made his way back up through the twisting streets to where the "camp" was--if you could call it that--and discussed his findings with the others; namely the other Heralds, one of the Artificers, and Treehugger.

They all agreed to head straight there the following morning, and with heavy feet but a heart light with the thought of tomorrow, Jaron turned the body over to Shored and went to sleep.


	2. Here's a Riddle For You

Notes: From here on out I'm going to cut with the reviewer thanks in the Notes. They made up too big of a part and were padding for the chapters when I was trying to reach a 2500 word per chapter goal. All Notes from here on out will be nonexistent unless I either have a really good excuse for a late chapter or an answer to a question that someone's asked.

(And now, with that being said and typed, my word count for this chapter is 2000 words. :-P)

* * *

Man I'm big but we're smaller than small  
In the scheme of things, well we're nothing at all  
Still every mother's child sings a lonely song  
So play with me, come play with me  
And hey man  
Here's a riddle for you  
Find the answer  
There's a reason for the world  
Who am I?  
There are secrets that we still have left to find  
There have been mysteries from the beginning of time  
There are answers we're not wise enough to see  
_Loosely pulled from Five For Fighting's The Riddle_

**Chapter Two: Here's a Riddle For You **

Gaelan teased Jaron awake with a gentle:_Wake up, sleepy._:

Before Jaron could take control of the still half-asleep body, Tenri got there first.

"I want to do something now," was all he said before he bolted up out of the bedding, dressed hurriedly, and then flung open the strange stone door that pivoted on _something _and went outside.

A passenger in the body they all shared and which he called home, Jaron waited patiently for Tenri to have a quick look around, hug Gaelan, and grab some stew and a journeycake from the three Kaled'a'in in charge of breakfast.

No one else was around--they must have been the first ones up--and Tenri ate their breakfast alone on an overturned bucket while Jaron continued to wait.

The least stable member of their little triumvirate, Tenri relinquished control of the body once all the food was gone to Jaron while Shored "watched" from his corner of their mind.

Jaron stared down at his now empty plate, belly full. Tenri vanished somewhere, and only then did Shored approach Jaron.

:_Do you think he's...okay?_: he asked. His mindvoice was tinged a pale blue with worry.

:_I don't know,_: Jaron said. :_He's seemed less coherent lately, and he's been coming out less and less._: He was careful to shield his thoughts from Gaelan, who would no doubt attempt to stick his too-long nose into things and try to push Tenri into an answer or bully him into talking to them, and Jaron thought that that was probably the worst thing that his heartmate could do.

:_What should we do?_:

:_I don't know. I guess all we can do it wait for him to say something to us. If we push him he might well snap again. You know how he is._:

Shored subsided into silence while Jaron brought the plate to join the pile of those from people who had come, eaten, and left while Tenri had been focused on eating. He carefully stacked the plate on top of all of the others, and went to saddle Gaelan for the trip into the center of the city.

He met the Companion in the stables and saddled him with ease and speed that only memory and experience could offer. He checked all the straps, mounted, and joined the mingled Kaled'a'in, Heralds, and Artificers that would be following him to the tower. Lori joined them, this time mounted on a dyheli doe.

In less than five minutes they were off, following the indirect streets and passing the weirdly uniform houses as they headed for the tower.

To get there took barely a quarter of the time it had taken Jaron and Shored together to reach it, but when actually reached the base, it had to be on foot. The Artificers' horses wouldn't go any farther, and the dyheli were uneasy about the "feel" of the structure.

:_It feels distinctly odd,_: Masel told Jaron. :_Oily, and it's really bothering the horses._:

"Gaelan?" Jaron asked. While he was distinctly proficient in Mindspeech, he was much more comfortable asking questions with his mouth, not with his mind.

:_It doesn't quite bother me,_: Gaelan said:_but it does--_: he groped for words. :_It _buzzes.:

"Buzzes?" Jaron asked, and the other Heralds looked like they, too, were discussing it with their Companions.

The Artificers looked on impatiently, but Jaron ignored them. They would just have to wait.

:_It gives off a vibration. Don't tell me you can't hear or feel it._:

"I can't, Oh Mighty Companion of Valdemar."

Lori looked at him askance.

Gaelan snorted. :_It's getting under my skin. It's not harmful as far as I can tell. It's just annoying._:

He shuddered for effect, and Jaron scratched behind his ears comfortingly.

:_Does this help?_: He put up a shield around Gaelan.

Gaelan turned one eye back to him in shock. :_What did you do?_:

"I shielded you."

:_Why didn't I think of that?_: Instead of sounding irritated, Gaelan actually sounded thoughtful, and Jaron easily put up shields around the other Companions and dyheli.

There were audible whuffled sighs of relief from all around, and all of the fourfeets with a brain looked at Jaron with obvious thanks in their eyes.

"Let's go," he said, dismounting. The others followed his lead, and Jaron advanced on the tower. The Companions stayed behind, but the dyheli took the horses some distance back into the regular streets.

:_We're going to bring them somewhere where the tower won't bother them. Call us when you want to leave._:

:_Thanks,_: Jaron said.

They crossed over one of the pathways leading into the tower, and for sheer sport Jaron dropped a copper down the chasm.

He didn't hear it hit the bottom, ground _or_ water.

Uneasy, he leaned back from the edge and continued into the tower.

Stranger than the outside tower, there was another, smaller tower inside the first. Almost equally as tall, it was thinner, and filled the hollow outer tower like a hand inside a glove. There was barely a skin of room between the two towers, and Jaron couldn't fathom what it was for.

The sunlight emanating from the entrances gave him some idea of how big the inner tower was; at least fifteen men would be needed to touch fingers all around its base.

:_Gaelan?_: he called. Instantly, he Felt Gaelan looking through his eyes, and Felt the Companion's curiosity.

:_What is that thing?_:

:_I don't know._:

Jaron approached the tower, hand held out. There was a strange vibration under his fingertips the second before he touched it, and then his fingers made contact.

:_PAIN!_:

That was the last thing he remembered.

o

"Pure idiocy to go around touching the conduit, and--"

"Who does he think he's--"

"Lucky he wasn't killed--"

"Good thing we got here in--"

"Idiot--"

"Idiot--"

"Idiot--"

"Idiot--"

_I am _not_... an idiot,_ Shored thought muzzily. He fought to open his eyes, ignoring the pain, and stared unfocusedly up at an effervescent ceiling.

"Where am I?" he tried to say, but his mouth wouldn't obey him.

:_Where am I?_: he Sent to whoever was listening.

:_SHORED!_: the mindvoice was deafening, and Shored winced and made a small, involuntary noise of pain that brought whoever was calling him an idiot running.

:_Ow. Gaelan?_:

:_You're alright._: Gaelan's Mindvoice was nearly frantic with relief.

:_What happened?_: Shored asked. He couldn't open his eyes again.

:_You touched the energy-supply for the city,_: Gaelan told him.

Whatever person was hovering above him pried up an eyelid, and Shored struggled to focus on a blurry face with eyes that bored down into his open one.

:_...What?_:

:_That tower thing is the housing for something that sends energy out all over the city. When you touched it, some of that energy went into you. Healer Ophelia said you're lucky you're not dead._:

The person playing with his eyelid let go of it, and Shored found himself in darkness again. :Which_ Healer?_: Shored asked, confused. He might not know the members of their traveling-party _or _the Kaled'a'in as well as Jaron did, but he didn't think that any of them were named Ophelia.

:_The..._: Gaelan paused. :_Um, here._: he threw a mental line of thought to Shored, who grabbed it gladly, and then Shored could see through his eyes.

Gaelan was outside of one of the indistinct buildings, staring up at one of the windows with a focus so clear that it startled Shored.

Everything looked the same as it had before, except...

:_Where did all of the people come from?_:

The street and the buildings were full of people, all dressed in weird clothing, all bustling around like they would in Haven, and not a few were giving Gaelan odd looks.

:_I had been hoping you would be well enough to come to the window._:

:_I'm not even well enough to smile, thanks._:

Gaelan sounded contrite, and rightfully so. :_Sorry._:

:_It's alright. Where did all of the people come from?_:

:_I don't quite know myself. They just started trickling in out of the forest while you were unconscious._:

:_Trickling in? All of this? Gaelan, how long have I been unconscious?_:

:_Too long,_: Gaelan said uncomfortably.

:_...Two weeks._:

:_Two--_: By the Hundred Little Gods and the Bright Lady, he'd been unconscious for that long?

:_Was I going to die?_:

:_Yes. Then the inhabitants of the city came back, and with them was a Healer who knew how to Heal you._:

He mulled over that for a minute.

Then he noticed something.

:_How are we communicating with them?_:

:_They speak one of the older dialects of Kaled'a'in._:

:_How can I understand them?_:

:_We managed to bring up Masel while you were unconscious and dump ancient Kaled'a'in into your head. It didn't seem to hurt you, and he thought that a headache on top of everything else wouldn't be too much of a strain._:

:_Remind me to thank him next time I see him,_: Shored said sarcastically.

:_Will do_,: Gaelan replied dutifully.

Someone approached Shored's bed again, and with a sudden shock he wasn't in control of the body anymore. Jaron was, he was angry, and suddenly the body had a lot more energy.

"Who are you," Jaron growled, sitting up.

"My name is Ophelia," the person who had been pulling on his eyelid said. She pushed him back onto the bed with a strength that belied her small frame.

"Where did you come from?"

Ophelia pointed at the door on the other side of the room. "Through there."

"Cut the funny business," Jaron demanded darkly.

"I am not being funny," she said.

:_Jaron, calm down!_: Shored called as Jaron raised his hackles.

The man ignored him.

:_Gaelan, tell him to calm down!_:

Gaelan didn't say anything.

"You are in the city of Tansho," Ophelia said.

"Yeah, I kind of got that."

"You are in the country of Graveld," she offered.

"Where is that?"

"East of the Western Ocean."

"Do you _always _talk in riddles?" Jaron demanded.

Ophelia smiled. "Only when I feel the need to."

"_Why now?_"he exploded.

"It's getting you angrier and more full of energy, isn't it?" she asked, eyes full of laughter.

Shored felt Jaron pause for a moment. "It is," he admitted.

"Good."

"Now, are you ready to get up?" she asked.

"I think so," Jaron said.

"Good. Now you are..." she said, trailing off and looking at him to answer.

"Erm, Jaron?" he said, looking around.

Shored cringed. Was it the answer she was looking at him for?

She smiled. "Nice to meet you."

Then Jaron got up, dressed in the Whites she had left for him while she waited patiently outside the door, and followed her out to the street.

* * *

Notes: 

Anyone wondering about how the towers work... go look up what a Tesla tower is and apply it to the description below. If you already do, then you should get most of this.

The tower magically pulls energy from the atmosphere of the world and supplies it to the homes in the city. They are all lit and powered by the magical energy pulled from the air, kind of like a Tesla tower.


	3. Yes Indeed, We Aim to Please

Be our guest! Be our guest!  
Our command is your request  
It's been years since we've had anybody here  
And we're obsessed  
With your meal, with your ease  
Yes, indeed, we aim to please  
While the candlelight's still glowing  
Let us help you, We'll keep going  
_Be Our Guest_

**Chapter Three: Yes Indeed, We Aim to Please **

The stairs were steep, but Jaron managed to make it to the bottom without asking Ophelia for help.

Outside the door, Gaelan was standing in the sunlight, brighter than he'd seemed before, and his coat gleamed.

"Who groomed you?" Jaron asked, but Gaelan just shook his head and whuffled into Jaron's hair.

He hugged the Companion tightly; glad to see him again, and then he turned back to Ophelia, who stood in the doorway.

"Now what?"

"Now we go to the Arch Building," Ophelia said. The way she said it made it clear that the A was capital, and that it was common knowledge what the building's purpose was.

Jaron turned a quizzical look her way as she came down the last few steps that led to the street. She started walking down the street, and Jaron followed her. Gaelan trailed the both of them, and when Jaron felt like the three of them had gone a full circle along the spiral that formed the city streets, Ophelia told him.

"The Arch Building is one of the buildings next to the power source for the city; it is the building where the men and women who take care of the city reside. They make the day-to-day decisions that control the city and direct what happens, and they would very much like to meet you."

_Why me? _"You mean your Council?" Jaron asked, a little confused. "Who is your overall Monarch?"

Ophelia gave him a sideways look. "We have no Monarch. We have no Queen, we have no King. We have no Heir, or Emperor or Empress."

Jaron began, "Then how--"

"--Are we ruled?" Ophelia finished. She gave him a look that was neither condescending or awed. It was just a measuring look, and he wondered what exactly she was measuring.

"We have something like the Councils in the East, but in Graveld we elect our own rulers by popular vote. Each city elects its own leaders, and then once every ten years the elected leaders of the cities travel to the central city in Graveld to listen to the campaigns of those who wish to rule the country. Those campaigners are placed under a charm to make them tell the truth, and those ones who the elected leaders concur on are elected to rule the country. They are called the Senate."

She spoke as they walked, and Jaron guessed that they must be at least halfway to the center of the city by now; the place where he had woken up couldn't have been that far from the "Arch building".

"So," Jaron fumbled, searching for a way to word his next question. "What are your gods like? Do you still worship the Kaled'a'in goddess?"

The look she gave him was flatly astonished. "We don't believe in any gods here. Thousands of years ago, yes, but nearly a century ago the practice of worshipping any deity was given up upon. Here and there you'll find a few sects of people that still believe, but largely worship is not a popular thing."

He stopped. "You--what? Then who do you turn to when you're in trouble? Who created us; where did we come from? Why are we here?"

She paused, turned, and smiled. "I do not think you would believe me if I told you, so why don't we continue this discussion later when we have more time? The Arch building is in one more turn."

Jaron was bursting with questions, but when Gaelan nudged his shoulder with his nose. :_She can answer your questions later. Right now you have a meeting with the leaders of the city._:

:_Did you know about this?_: Jaron asked, turning around and glaring into those big blue eyes. :_Did you know that they abandoned their Goddess?_:

Gaelan blinked slowly, innocently. :_I knew,_: he said quietly. :_But what other countries and people choose to worship or not worship is not any of our business, I believe._:

:_But--_:

:_Remember. In Valdemar, there is no One True Way._:

:_I'm sorry,_: Jaron said, sighing. :_It's just that I've met so many people with so many different Gods and Goddesses, to meet someone--let alone a whole country!--who didn't worship _any _of them is a little offputting._:

Gaelan whuffled into his chest, butting his head against Jaron's chest.

:_I wish I had your confidence,_: the Herald thought. Then he turned back to Ophelia. "My apologies. I was just not truly..." he searched for a nice way to phrase it. "_Prepared_ to meet someone who didn't believe in the same things I believe."

"Understandable," Ophelia said. "I understand that many of your friends had the same reaction when they discovered our... secularity."

Jaron nodded. He didn't know what to say to that, other than, _What did you expect?_

After another five minutes of walking, they reached the huge tower in the center of the city, and after giving it what he considered a fair glower, Jaron followed Ophelia into the last building on the end of the spiral.

Immediately inside the doors there were two more doorways leading off to the right and the left, and Ophelia led him left, then up several flights of stairs that seemed to take forever to climb, and when Jaron judged that they were about five or six stories above the ground, they stopped, and Ophelia led him through a door.

The little stairwell opened up into a grand room with several groups of people scattered around it, conversing. Sprinkled among them were some few of the Haighlei and the people Jaron had brought with him, looking entirely at ease.

The chairs along the walls were nice, Jaron guessed, from the looks of them. They were large wooden frames covered in leather, and they looked comfortable. Too bad no one was using them.

He stepped up next to Ophelia, and all conversations in the room stopped.

"Nice of you to join us," Treehugger said in Valdemaran, extricating herself from a gaggle of men in short robes and making her way over the short distance to the door. Lori followed her like an eager puppy, eyes wide in relief.

"What has been happening?" Jaron replied back in the same language. If there was a problem and she needed to say something in a language that the people of this city didn't know, it was best to keep it that way.

"Nothing, other than that these are a strange people and that they have refused to negotiate much without you. Apparently they want all of the diplomatic leaders of the different groups here."

"Which means..." Jaron trailed off, not understanding.

"The Valdemarans designated you as their leader. I am the representative from White Gryphon, and Jethryo has said that he will stand in for a diplomat or an Ambassador from the Haighlei." Treehugger waved her hand over at an opposing corner of the room. The lone Haighlei man stood out there like a watermelon seed among rice, and his formal robes were resplendent among the somewhat more casual attire of the men he was talking with.

Treehugger leaned close. "I do not know what the attitude of this people is towards those who believe in the Powers, but _they _do not believe. How can they not?"

Instead of looking like a calm, confident leader, she looked troubled, and Jaron didn't quite know what to say. He wasn't comfortable with it himself, and in negotiations between this country and their home countries that lay to the East, that might become a sticking point.

Marriages were made and lost upon religion; wars were declared by reason and basis of religion, and people depended on religion in times of both hardship and bounty.

He looked around at the people of Tansho, and they seemed happy enough. Why didn't they turn to Her when they needed to? Why didn't they thank Her or include her in their daily lives?

:_I suggest you stop worrying at the issue,_: Gaelan said abruptly. :_The only thing this will make you do is stress, and there will be stress enough during the rest of these diplomatic negotiations._:

The sound of a large bell ringing startled him away from Gaelan's words, and he looked around the room for the source. Instead he found a set of pair of doors on the other side of the room open, and people were moving towards it.

He looked at Treehugger and Lori, and together the three of them--with Ophelia following--made their way towards the doors and joined the crowd.

Everyone filed through the doors on the other side of the room, and Jaron found that they were now in a room around a third of what the size of the first room had been, with more of the chairs that had been around the walls in the first room now somewhat closer together, arrayed around a huge round table.

The natives of Tansho sat down around one edge of the table, leaving not one seat empty, apparently leaving the rest for the visitors. The dozen or so foreigners looked at each other, mutually making the decision to take the rest of the chairs.

Being outsiders in a strange town in a strange country could apparently forge bonds faster than all being natives to the same country, Jaron decided as he took a seat between the last of the Haighlei and Lori. The rest of the people who had come with them from Valdemar who were in the room--the White Winds Adept, one name of Toyah, the Healer Peter, the Herald named Cunei, and Lori--sat lined up next to him in a line away from Lori.

When they were all seated, one of the men on the opposite curve of the table rose.

"Welcome to Tansho," he said formally in that odd, archaic Kaled'a'in, addressing them all. "My name is Garrick. I am the leader of the council here, and we wish to welcome you to both our city and our country." He sat back down, dark eyes passing over the foreigners.

"Have you any questions for the time being?"

_For the time being?_ Jaron wondered. He glanced at Treehugger.

"What do you mean for the time being?" she asked, voicing Jaron's question.

"We need to move you to Veldi City. The Senate should be the ones negotiating with you, not we in Tansho."

_But we're not ambassadors, _Jaron thought. They were just a bunch of merchants, Kaled'a'in, and an exploration team coupled with a support team. They couldn't negotiate with an entirely new country!

:_Relax,_: Gaelan said, invading his mind with a calm rush of _there_ness. :_Selenay will figure out what to do. When we contact her we can find out if she wants to send a true Envoy or not._:

:If?:

:_If. She may choose to use you as her diplomat._:

:_Why me?_: Jaron Sent, panicked.

Shored chose that moment to poke his nose in. :_Because you're the most mature out of all of us._:

Jaron got a sudden vision of three males standing side by side. One was a young teenager, barely out of puberty, one was a young man around the age of fifteen, and one was Jaron himself, twenty years old but looking incredibly wise. All of the boys were identical, save for the age difference and the eyes.

"And so tomorrow we will erect a Gate to send you to Veldi," Councilman Garrick was saying.

The youngest of the boys blinked and looked directly at Jaron. :_You are the most knowledgeable of us,_: he said.

The middle boy turned his gaze upon Jaron, too. :_And you can take the most in._:

:_What?_: Jaron asked.

:_You are the most able, not only among your Others, but among the people that you brought with you, save possibly Toyah and Cunei,_: Gaelan added.

_And Toyah cannot speak for Valdemar,_ Jaron realized.

:_What about Cunei?_:

:_He was not designated as the leader of this scouting party,_: Gaelan pointed out reasonably. :_You were._:

:_But I'm not _ready!: Jaron wailed. :_I'm twenty years old! What do _I _know about being a diplomat?_:

:_I think you're getting ahead of yourself,_: Gaelan said, breaking Jaron's escalating panic. :_Focus on the _here _and _now_, and later we will know what is to be concerning diplomats and ambassadors._:

While Jaron had been panicking, Garrick had finished explaining why they had to go to Veldi, and had opened the table to questions.

At first there was a silence as everyone pondered what to ask, and then both sides of the table were buzzing with conversation.


	4. Someone Who Wants to Believe

**A/N: **Yeah, I did say that there wouldn't be any more Notes, but I had to explain this for the sake of explaining it.  
It's kind of inferred that the Empire was established by mercenaries stranded by the death of Urtho and his army. The reason they weren't Ma'ar's was because Ma'ar's army was an army made up of varying tribes, a whole buncha lords looking for power, and that sort of people. Basically what I'm saying is that Urtho's army split up into what would eventually become the Empire, Iftel, and White Gryphon. And Graveld. And as we all know, Valdemar (the guy) and the rest of his people came from the Empire. I can't really remember where Hardorn popped up, but for the sake of argument I'm going to assume that everything north of Karse and J'katha and everything south of the Ice Wall Mountains originated from Urtho's Army.  
And I've got something of a map (okay, a really crappy map) done that kind of shows Valdemar to the Western Ocean, along with where the Haighlei and White Gryphon are. If you want a copy, leave a review with your e-mail address and I'll send you a copy.

* * *

There's no such thing as god  
But there is someone who wants to believe  
That's what I think  
In the moonlight  
The falling cherry blossoms dissolve  
_Sakura Fubuki_**Chapter Four: Someone Who Wants to Believe **

Three days later, (and newly armed with Shored's memories of History class) Jaron rode Gaelan through a Gate in the center of Tansho that sent them to a city more than a hundred leagues to the north and west. One moment they were in Tansho, and then on Gaelan's next step they were in Veldi city, emerging from a stone arch into a crowd of men and women who had cleared only a space large enough for three Companions, at best.

How many people did they think were coming? Their party numbered at least twenty if one counted the entire Valdemaran party and the Haighlei who had elected to come along.

Jaron looked back at the Gate. He was the first one through, and the others were lined up to come through the Gate, but there was no room. He didn't have much time.

Hands cupped to his mouth, he elected to clear some space the old-fashioned way. Gaelan moved forward proudly as Jaron bellowed, "_Please make more room for the rest of the foreigners._"

The crowd gave way, and the warriors among the Haighlei were the next to spill through the Gates. Spears held in a non-threatening position, they helped to clear more space and keep it clear. From that point on, there were no more problems concerning enough room.

When the Gate closed, Jaron took the opportunity to look around, and what he saw amazed him. The huge tower they were standing next to looked like one of the images of Urtho's Tower that Shored had shown him. It had looked as though it had been hastily retrieved out of a committed memory of a book page, but what Jaron was looking at now looked like a slightly cruder version of that Tower.

While he gaped, men of Veldi filtered into the crowd of foreigners and placed themselves next to each leader and near each group of clustered Haighlei, Heralds, Tayledras, and Bards and Artificers. The mages--both Lori and the teachers--stuck close to the Heralds.

_Each to his own_, Jaron thought, watching each foreigner stick close to those he felt most comfortable with.

After a long-winded formal introduction, a man who had introduced himself as one of the infamous Senators, and he led the assembly of mixed foreigners and Graveldi into a tall building shaped like a wide column with windows at regular intervals.

The lobby of the building was empty but for a few desks around the edges of the room, and the only other thing in the room was a huge staircase in the center, leading up.

That staircase turned into a more stairs, which switched back upon itself again and again. When they reached the tenth switchback, the first separation occurred. The Haighlei warriors were led off through a door, and the rest of them continued up.

At each floor, more members of their group were ushered off, and then when the stairs stopped, the only people left were those of them who had been in the room in Tansho when negotiations had been made to send them to Veldi--Treehugger, Jaron, Toyah, Cunei, Peter, Lori, and an equal number of the Haighlei.

The "leaders" were brought onto a separate floor of the round building. Apparently they were given the entire floor; the size of the huge, round room seemed to match half the width of the outside of the building. Doors ringed the room at twenty foot intervals; enough for all of the foreigners in the room and more.

The Senator said, "Here are the suites you will be staying in for as long as you need them. We will give you the rest of the day to settle in. Tomorrow will begin the temporary negotiations, and you may contact the leaders of your countries if you wish to inform them about something new you have learned."

He smiled. "We are very eager to make contact with other countries. It has been so long since we have spoken another language or interacted with a culture that is not ours."

With that said, he left them to their own devices, and after a short discussion, the "leaders" of the foreigners came to an agreement.

Jaron had already contacted Valdemar via teleson and Fetched message tubes, and Cunei was going to keep that contact.

Valdemar was sending a pair of ambassadors, as were Hardorn, Karse, Iftel, and Saturnus. It had been decided that the Haighlei who were already in Veldi would act as temporary diplomats until the Black Kings could decide what to do. White Gryphon had apparently been quite prepared, and envoys from that city would be the first to arrive.

He nodded once at Cunei, and then they all went their separate ways.

All of the foreigners separated into doors centered around the huge main living area, and each of them was followed by the man assigned to him or her upon arrival.

The doors led into very nice suites of rooms that included a bed, a desk, a receiving area, and a private bathing area for (presumably) each room. Jaron was suitably impressed, even moreso when he realized that his bags had made it up to the suite before he himself had.

A quick Mindtouch told him that Gaelan was comfortably ensconced in a roomy stall in a stable somewhere nearby, happily munching on an apparently delicious variation of grain and oats.

The man whom Jaron was followed by was one of the Capital Library's Historians, though the man didn't look the part. He wasn't bookish at all, instead appearing scruffy and tall, solidly built.

He'd introduced himself as Capital historian Dreagn Tomele, and when Jaron had asked him to give him a history lesson on Graveld, he'd launched right in.

"Thousands of years ago, during the time we call the Mage War, the founders of this country were part of a massive army under the command of a man named Urtho."

At the name, Shored gave Jaron the mind-to-mind equivalent of a wide-eyed look.

:_What?_: Jaron asked. The name sounded vaguely familiar, but he couldn't really place it.

:_Did you pay attention at _all _in the History classes?_: Shored asked, half-yelping.

:_I figured you knew enough to get us through the examinations,_: Jaron said. :_Who was Urtho, again?_:

Shored groaned. :_It would take too long to explain at this point, but let's settle for the fact that Urtho was one of the two reasons for the recent Mage Storms._:

:_You're explaining this to me later,_: Jaron told him.

The conversation took less than a minute to discuss with his mindbrother, and Jaron became aware that at the same time, a distinct feeling of shock was emanating from Gaelan.

Dreagn continued, oblivious. "At the end of the war, Urtho died, though we do not know how. No one knew, and when the army found out that he was going to die, they fled in different directions."

:_Why does this sound familiar?_: Jaron prodded Shored, and the boy Sent him a feeling of rolled eyes. :_You would have understood this better and understood why it's so important if you'd paid attention when we were learning about the Cataclysm._:

"The part of the Army that became Graveld was sent to a place that Urtho knew well; it was a place where he had once built a huge Tower. It was his first one, and it was there that their Gate led. They set up a base camp around the Tower, and since their dependents had already been sent on ahead, it wasn't too hard, and most everything was done for them already. One year after they finished their settlement, they were contacted by another great mage. The new mage had been a compatriot of Urtho before the War, and said that since most magic in the land was warped beyond casual use, he would help them in return for hunting down the remains of their enemy's--the Mage of Black Fire, Ma'ar--army that plagued the villages under his protection."

"What did they do?"

"They left half of their forces to protect the settlement around the Tower, and with the Stone Mage's help, they wiped out the remains of Ma'ar's army and returned to the settlement with few casualties."

"And the mage?" Jaron asked. Keeping in mind that this was thousands of years ago, there didn't seem to be records of very many mages at the time. Then again, there weren't many records of the time at all.

"Left the city after they made contact with the country of Shonben, which lay to the West," Dreagn finished.

"Who was he?"

"The Mage of Stone. He was the one who taught the original mages of Graveld to make the towers that supply the cities with energy."

"What about this city?" Jaron asked.

"Veldi runs on magelights made by local mages around the city. We feel that Urtho's original Tower should not be sullied by building a Stone Tower to pull energy from the atmosphere when he died to keep us alive. In this city we are content with mage lights and the occasional flame. The fact that the other cities have what we do not does not bother us."

Huh. In most other countries, the capitals are usually the first to have new technological or magical advances. 

He stopped speaking, and it took a moment for Jaron to realize that Dreagn was giving him some time to ask a question if he had one.

Jaron had none but one. "Why don't you worship any gods?" he blurted, and saw a look cross over Dreagn's face that came close to awe.

"You _believe_?" Dreagn asked in an amazed tone.

"Of course!" Jaron exclaimed, stunned. "Why don't you?"

"It just seems so--so trivial," Dreagn said. "No god helped our ancestors during the War, no Lady, no Lord, no nothing. Over the years, worship of any god, Bright Lady or no just seemed so antiquated and useless, and we never saw any evidence that any god existed. So we just stopped believing."

Jaron felt his eyes widen. "But you don't need to see Her to know She's there. She just is. Just because She doesn't do anything on your behalf or against it doesn't mean She doesn't care about what happens to you or anyone else."

Dreagn's face twisted into something like pity. "I just don't know how _you _can believe," he said. "I guess it's just something your culture's ingrained into you. Maybe if you stay here a while you'll realize the truth."

"No," Jaron said, growling under his breath, "I won't."

"Fine, fine," Dreagn said hastily. "Shall we move onto another topic?"

"You mentioned a country called Shonben," Jaron said, equally happy at the change of subject. "What is it?"

"It's the country that lies to the west of here. It runs to the Western Ocean, and Graveld runs along the Eastern border of it. When our ancestors initially made contact with Shonben, both sides were equally wary. Shonben had been deeply affected by the Mage Storms, and our ancestors were wary of them for different reasons." Dreagn glossed over the exact list of reasons and moved on. "Eventually after five years of negotiations, a deal was struck. Our ancestors--if they overpopulated the original city around Urtho's Tower--could move north and south along Shonben's border. The Weirdlings coming out of the woods and mountains were a threat to both the settlement and the country, and they were what fueled the alliance more than anything."

Jaron nodded.

"The people of Graveldi could keep watch on the border in exchange for free trade and alliances. Both sides were more than happy at the deal. It's taken many centuries, but the settlement expanded into what you see now, and more cities were established. Graveld runs in something like a half-moon shape curved like the waning moon. The city you arrived in, Tansho, was the newest city, and the closest to you. It's on the very southeasternmost tip of that moon."

"What about Shonben?" Jaron asked.

"What about them?" Dreagn asked.

Jaron couldn't leave it alone. "Do _they _believe in a God or a Goddess?"

"No," Dreagn said. "In fact, when our ancestors first came into contact with them, they were initially shocked. The Shonben were as secular as we are. As you are not."

He gave Jaron another faintly pitying look, and at it, Jaron decided he'd had enough. "That's it," he said shortly, standing up. "I'm leaving."

Dreagn didn't say anything, and Jaron walked out.

_I don't need this. _


	5. Minutes Ago

Ten minutes ago I saw you.  
I looked up when you came through the door.  
My head started reeling,  
You gave me the feeling  
The room had no ceiling or floor!  
_Ten Minutes Ago_

**Chapter Five: Minutes Ago**

"What's wrong?" Herald Cunei asked when he walked out of his own room to find Jaron and one of the Artificers staring at the decoration on the table moodily.

The Artificer had been in the room already when Jaron had come in, and a few minutes after that, Dreagn had walked past them and out the door with nary a wave or a word.

Jaron looked up at him. "What isn't wrong?" he asked. "These people are _insane_, Cunei. They have no sense of any kind of God, and they look down those of us who do. The idiot in there kept mentioning the fact that they thought that anyone who believed is any idiot at every chance he got."

The Artificer nodded. "The man in my room was doing pretty much the same thing, except he was ruder about it." He pounded a fist down onto the arm of his chair. "Damnit, how are our countries supposed to work together if we can't agree on what's what and where the world came from?"

Jaron swiveled in his chair. "What do you mean by that?" he asked cautiously.

"It's--these people believe that not only are there no Powers, they believe that people were not made by the Gods; that we weren't created by Them or anyone else."

Jaron didn't say anything for a second. He couldn't. The very idea was crazy. "What?" he asked finally, incredulous.

"I mean it!" the man said. "They believe that we--I think Sanjaya said that we just spontaneously burst from the earth or some rubbish of the like."

After looking at his door for a long moment, Cunei sat down next to Jaron and took in both of their astonished faces with his gaze. "I think--" he said ponderously. "I think we need to leave and find out what the actual populace of the city thinks. Mayhaps this is all some plot by their Senators, and the country is not completely lost."

Jaron nodded. "I will go."

"Now?" Cunei asked, surprised.

"Now," Jaron affirmed. He turned to the Artificer. "I'm afraid I can't quite remember your name, but will you come?"

The man nodded. "My name is Colin. And I'll gladly come."

Cunei stood up. "Then let us go before they can stop us."

Jaron and Colin followed him out the door and down the stairs. They didn't stop to get anyone from any of the other floors; the people who had followed _them _might have seen the trio and asked what they were doing, and then the game would have been up. So they went straight to the bottom of the building. They didn't encounter anyone, native or foreigner, which Jaron thought was a little odd; usually foreign dignitaries--especially those from an unknown country--would be kept under at least a smattering of a guard. That there wasn't anyone watching them struck him as a little odd, but perhaps the Senate was counting on the "Historians" to keep them in line.

_Hah. _

They walked out of the front doors of the building, unstopped and unseen. The Companions were nowhere to be found, but a quick Mindtouch reassured Gaelan, and he could vaguely sense Cunei doing the same for his Sakura.

Outside, it was dark and growing darker, but they strode through the crowded market that seemed to have sprung up surrounding the round building and the Tower, and Jaron thought in a distracted way that it was beautiful, with lanterns floating high above the crowd, slung twenty to a rope, which were hung between buildings. The lanterns swayed in some unfelt breeze, throwing abstract patterns onto the ground and on the people in the market. There were no insects at all, and as Jaron watched, children ran hither and thither among the vendors, followed (or following, he couldn't tell) cats that wound between and around legs before dashing off again.

No one looked their way twice, and Jaron was beginning to doubt that anyone even recognized that they had been the subjects of the huge crowd earlier. Cunei led them through the market, and Jaron wondered if he knew where he was going, before he remembered that Cunei had Farsight. Was the Herald using his Gift to guide them?

They pressed between bodies and stalls, somehow keeping together, and before three minutes had passed, they were at the far side of the huge space, free of everything but a cat that had followed them.

Jaron shooed it off, and then Cunei started walking again. They hadn't gone more than five yards when a group of young men and women accosted them. The group appeared literally out of nowhere, and before Jaron had time to reach for the knife at his belt, he, Cunei, and Colin were crowded against a wall, facing several men and two women who looked--if not armed and dangerous--certainly menacing in the fact that they outnumbered the Valdemarans by at least two to one.

"Heyla," Jaron said, trying to appear calm, cool, and untroubled. "Wind to thy wings?"

"Now _that's _Oldtongue," one of the men said.

"Can we help you?" Cunei asked. His hand was already on his knife.

"I believe the question should be, "Can _we _help _you_?"" the same young man said. "We saw you sneak out of the Shonben Embassy. Why?"

Were these young men the guards? Jaron wondered. There couldn't be a one of them over twenty-five.

"We wanted to see what the city was like," Jaron said carefully. "The Historians did not give us much information, so we wanted to ask some of the people in the city itself what they thought about certain--policies."

"Which ones?" one of the women asked.

"Religion," Cunei said.

"Or lack thereof," Jaron clarified.

A raven-haired man looked around, glancing back over his shoulders and around before looking back at them. His gaze was now burning, curious as his voice was low. "There are no laws forbidding worship, but it is largely an unpopular thing to do. Some people refuse to do business with people who believe, but there are a lot of places that support bringing back belief in the Goddess."

"So there are people who believe?" Jaron asked, sagging with relief.

"Yes," the man said. He smiled and extended a hand. "My name is Mistral. Wind to thy wings."

Jaron repeated the greeting, shaking his hand fervently.

The others, who had previously seemed menacing, introduced themselves as well.

Twin sisters, Kayla and Lhel, identical in name but not in appearance. One was very tall and very muscular, from what Jaron could see under the tight shirt she wore, which was a lot, and the other was a little shorter and thinner, though still taller than him. Both were blond.

The rest were all men; the brunette was Tobin, the tall, nearly cadaverously thin man was named Arvin, and then the last was a short, ghost-pale man with black hair contrasting with his skin enough to look like a drained corpse was named Anito.

"There is a place here called Chava Dreams," Mistral suggested. "Half the patrons there are religious; it is a very tolerant place."

Tolerant. So other people here really _weren't _tolerant? Jaron thought, but he kept it to himself.

"Can we go there?"

"Would I have suggested it if we could not?" Mistral said, laughing. He grabbed Jaron's wrist and began to pull him down the street. "Come."

These people certainly were physical, Jaron decided as he half ran to keep up with Mistral.

The tall young man led him and the others into what looked--on the outside--like a tavern with a sign outside proclaiming "Chava Dreams" in what looked vaguely like written ancient Kaled'a'in. The inside did not match the outside. Paper lanterns were hung everywhere, brightly colored in reds and blues and yellows, none matching another, casting a friendly, multihued glow over the denizens of the tavern.

Mistral kept hold of his wrist, pulling him to a large table that was just clearing out. There was just enough space for all of them, and everything was close enough to speak easily, but spacious enough to leave each person some room to eat and move about.

"Is this acceptable?" Mistral asked, loosing Jaron's wrist and gesturing around.

The Herald-Mage looked around at the brightly dressed denizens of the bar, and felt admittedly a little out of place wearing Formal Whites. "It's fine," he said.

He was about to ask what was so special about the place when a gong sounded at the front of the room, drawing his attention. No one else in the room paid it any attention except for himself and his fellow Valdemarans, and then women began filing out of a side room onto what looked like a stage on the near side of the room. They were dressed in what looked like the robes of the Priestesses for the Lady Shallot, garbed in red, severely cut robes with high collars and stiff drapes.

They lined up upon the stage, three to either side of a single, central woman, and as if on cue (probably on cue, Jaron amended) began to sing a song that even he could recognize; an ancient song of praise for a summer well harvested and prayers for a mild fall and winter to come.

It didn't bring tears to his eyes, but it shook him that these women could worship in a godless country and remember the old ways.

He listened attentively through the song, and then managed to give his attention to the students when he realized they were trying to get his attention for something.

Anito was gesturing at someone on the other side of the room, and Lhel was yelling a name. "Larel! Larel! _Larel!_"

A young woman at the bar turned around, drink in hand. She pushed short brown hair out of her face, obviously scanning the room.

"Oi, Larel!" Tobin shouted, waving his arm to bring the woman over. He finally caught her attention, and she waved.

She pushed through the rest of the people moving in towards the bar to get to them, and when she got to the table she didn't sit down, instead choosing to lean against the back of Jaron's chair.

"Heyla," she said. Her eyes twinkled, and when they moved to rest on Jaron, he had to keep from smiling just from looking into her eyes. They were a normal blue, perhaps not as bright and wise as Gaelan's, but they seemed just as deep.

"I know the rest of you," she said playfully, breaking Jaron's gaze.

He started breathing again, and her hair fell over the back of the chair to brush his shoulders.

It moved a little, tickling his collarbone when she turned her head. "But I'm afraid I don't know these three young men."

"They're the foreigners," one of the twins said. "The ones who came from OutCountry. They are from a land called Valdeemur," she explained.

"Valdemar," Jaron corrected her, still watching Larel. Something swam through that blue gaze at the mention of the name, and he thought he heard her breath quicken momentarily over the noise from the rest of the diners.

"Ah," she said idly. "Is it nice there?"

"It's very nice," Colin said before Jaron could answer. "Just as beautiful as Graveld."

Jaron wanted to kick him for telling her what _he _wanted to say.

"Heyla," he said instead.

"Heyla."

"I'm Jaron," he told her. At that moment, he wished that the ancient Kaled'a'in inside his head was better.

What she said then delighted him. "Wind to thy wings."

"Wind to they wings," he replied.

"We should talk," she said, holding his gaze.

His neck was starting to hurt from craning his head around, but he ignored it. "We should," he agreed.

Another gong sounded at the front of the room, and Larel looked slightly annoyed. He thought he heard her mutter something under her breath, and then she looked at him apologetically.

"I need to go," she said. "I have a performance now."

"You sing?" he asked.

"I dance."

_Dance?_

"I will come back after my dance," she promised.

"What's it called?" he asked, catching her elbow.

"Silk Road."

Then she vanished, moving through the crowd to touch a shoulder here, an elbow there, and then she was gone through a black door. Jaron gazed after her, wondering what was through that door.

Arvin clapped him on the back. "Good one, mate! I think she likes you."

"Her dance is a dedication to the sexual aspect of the Goddess," Tobin told him.

:_The Goddess has a sexual aspect?_:He heard Shored wonder.

"It is a very alluring dance," Arvin said, "but--"

The voices of the choir onstage rose abruptly in a crescendo that drowned out the rest of Arvin's words, and then they died and Arvin didn't say anything. The room quieted as the women cleared off of the stage, bringing their instruments and books with them, and the lanterns lighting the room darkened simultaneously.

_They have Firestarting here? _Jaron thought incredulously.

The lights died on the stage. After a moment, a single lantern was lit above the stage by a rapidly moving shadow that might have been a hand, and a special shade focused its light on a single, tiny area on the stage. Larel was crouched within the beam, calm and ready.

Scarves, both long and trailing and short, wide ones, draped her form, glittering and as multicolored as any Shin'a'in.

When the beat of a lone drum began, she leapt into action, first sweeping across the circle of light in a smooth, fluid leaping arc of silk-clad legs, and then she was spinning around the stage like a children's top, first on legs, then on arms and back. Now the quiet tone of an unfamiliar instrument joined the drum, something between a harp and a gittern, but faster, and her speed increased. Scarves trailed from every other finger, none like the one next to it.

Out in the audience, Jaron studied the spiraling dancer and marveled at her speed and agility. She never tangled any of her limbs in the scarves, never tripping or making a false move as she moved across the stage; now like a butterfly, now like a panther.

And as he watched her whirl and tumble almost desperately across the stage, trailing fluttering scarves behind her, he wondered what it would be like to remove them one by one.

o

_"They spent happy days together at the Collegium, and Tylendel's yearmates, Mardic Kironsonne and Donni Kirth have said that they were most certainly lifebonded, _

_Then Tylendel was killed in a freak accident, leaving Vanyel Ashkevron, at that time no more than just a boy, alone."_

Shored closed the book called "Magic's Price," and considered what he'd just read, an idea forming in his mind. In the middle of a bout of homesickness, he'd opened the book to remind himself of home, and then fell into the story.

And now he was getting a truly crazy idea that made all too much sense.

He, Jaron, and Tenri were the reincarnation of the lifebonds between Tylendel and Vanyel and Vanyel and Stefen. It was a perfect match; two men in a lifebond with the same person, but one died before the second came into play. Three people in a lifebond. It might as well have been if Tylendel had been alive when Stefen showed up, Shored thought.

And then when the three had been reincarnated, they had separated into the three of them; Shored, Jaron, and Tenri. But who was who?

He himself was Vanyel, of course. He had been the first to "exist," as it were, living the longest, and certainly during the course of the lifebonds, Vanyel had lived the longest of all of them. Besides, Vanyel was the most powerful of the three of them, the most talked-about and remembered. Who _wouldn't _want to be Vanyel?

Jaron... Tylendel, he decided. Jaron was certainly the most serious of all of them; the most mature. The original Herald-Mage between the original trio, and now the only one.

Which left... Tenri. Tenri and Stefen. Stefen the unGifted but for the Bardic Gift, the last to appear and the last to be in a lifebond with Vanyel. Also the last to die.

It was settled, then. He was Vanyel, Jaron was Tylendel, and Tenri was Stefen.

They had to be.


	6. Save Your Tears for the Day

**A/N: **I know, I probably should have said this earlier. Shored is having _delusions _about being Vanyel, Tylendel, and Stefen. He's looking for something solid to hang on to, and I think most of us have had dreams of being something more than what we are.  
Plus, no matter how much your souls complement each other, it's probably highly unlikely that they're gonna merge.

* * *

Save your tears  
For the day  
When our pain is far behind  
On your feet,  
come with me  
We are soldiers stand or die  
Save your fears  
take your place  
Save them for the judgement day  
fast and free  
follow me  
Time to make the sacrifice  
we rise or fall...  
_Rise, by Origa_

**Chapter Six: Save Your Tears for the Day**

Jaron was dreaming, but while he was dreaming, he had a distinct feeling of being not himself, as has happened a few times before when he'd dreamed either Shored or Tenri's dreams. And in this dream, he was definitely _not _Shored or Tenri.

_"It's nice, don't you think, _ashke_?" he asked, winding an arm about Van's shoulders as they relaxed in the Grove. _

_"Maybe," the slighter boy replied. "It was nice of Savil, but don't you think someone's going to figure it out eventually?" _

_Tylendel laughed at the anxiety in Van's voice. "Oh, _ashkeashke. _They might figure it out sometime, but only at some point far in the future, and by then I'll have my Whites and you'll be of age. Then _nothing _can touch us, love."_

_"Huh," Van said, snuggling closer, sounding for all the world like a child in need of comfort. "I just want to know that I can always be with you. I'll follow you on Circuit--you know that, don't you?--and then wherever you get stationed, even if it's the Karsite Border, I'll stay with you."_

_"I know, love. I know." _

Then the dream changed.

_The globe glowed yellow, lighting the room with a pale radiance that was both soothing and enriching. When Stefen looked into it, it showed him the life of a _kyree _whose life had both meaning and wonder, and each feeling that emanated from the little yellow ball was content and wise, making him feel better than he had in ages. _

:They are god-touched,: _Hyrryl said, appearing beside him. If he hadn't gotten used to any of the _kyree _doing that, he might have yelped, but by now it didn't bother him at all. _

_"What can I do to help him, Lady?" Stef asked. Even looking into the life-energy ball of the _kyree _shaman didn't help when he thought of Vanyel; thought of how tired he was, and how little his efforts seemed to help his lover. _

:Continue as you have been,:_ the snow white _kyree _said. _:I cannot tell you more than that, but he has been responding as well as he may, and even though you do not see a change, the white sister and I see a little more.:

_He nodded. She vanished in a swirl of white fur, leaving him alone with the yellow globe, his own thoughts, and the memories from the globe._

The next morning, Jaron barely remembered any of the dream, but to his dismay, Shored had either been watching it or had been the cause of the dream.

:_I did it!_: the boy yelped, startling Jaron out of the half-sleep he'd been drowsing in since he'd woken up.

"Did _what_?" Jaron growled, not at all happy to be woken up like that.

:_Called up the memory,_: Shored said eagerly. :_That was what your dream was!_: He threw the dream back in Jaron's face, and with a rush, Jaron remembered every detail of the dream, from the feelings of pine needles beneath his rear to the warm glow of the spirit-globe.

"What in Kernos's name are you talking about?" he snapped. He was confused and tired, and Shored wasn't doing anything to alleviate that condition.

:_You, Tenri and I are the legendary Herald-Mage Vanyel Ashkevron, Bard Stefen, and Herald-Mage Trainee Tylendel Frelennye reincarnated,_: Shored said.

Jaron didn't say anything for a minute. _Couldn't _say anything. Then,

"Horseturds."

:_It is not!_: Shored said. :_Look, there's three of us, and there were three of them. They were just all-around a weird bonding, we're a weird bonding, and in my gut I know we're them._:

"_You_," Jaron said acidly, feeling every explanation that Shored was throwing at him bounce off of a shield of logic, "are an idiot. Plain and simple."

:_But it's true!_:

"Fine, then you've gone insane."

:_You're Tylendel, Tenri is Stefen, and I'm Vanyel. It's easy._:

"Where in Bilairy's Balls are you getting these ideas from?" Jaron snarled, throwing off the covers and stalking over to the dresser to grab some clean Whites.

:_Your dream,_: Shored pointed out.

"My dream just _proves_ that you're wrong," Jaron told him. "If I'm Tylendel, then why do I remember being Stefen?"

:_That just settles it,_: Shored said. :_Vanyel was lifebonded to both Tylendel and Stefen. Since I'm Vanyel, I must have pulled a memory from Tenri and given it to you. I have Mindspeech and Foresight; it's only logical that they would work together for something like this._:

"You just keep getting crazier," Jaron said. "That's never happened before, and that only _might _work if you'd had Mindspeech and _Empathy_. Which none of us have, might I add."

:_Don't believe me if you don't want to, but don't expect me not to say 'I told you so' when you find out that I'm right,_: Shored said tartly, and vanished.

"How did I get saddled with the idiot?" Jaron asked the empty room, sighing, and then left to find the washroom.

o

Jaron lay idly in a corner of Tenri's mind, not really thinking of anything, just enjoying the feel of walking besides Gaelan in the park at the edge of Veldi, even if it wasn't really _him _walking besides the Companion.

Tenri sat down abruptly beside the lake, and after a pause, Gaelan dropped down beside him. Jaron could both Feel and feel the Companion's presence behind him. It wasn't a feeling he thought he could ever get tired of.

After brooding for a few minutes, the other Herald decided to open his mouth.

When Jaron realized that neither Tenri nor Gaelan realized he was there, he stayed quiet, for the things that the two were discussing were curious indeed.

And as he listened in the back of Tenri's mind, he wondered.

"I'm content with where I am," Tenri said, stroking Gaelan's nose gently. "I don't mind that Jaron has the body for most of the time. And neither of them need me anymore."

:_But--_: Gaelan said, shoving his nose into Tenri's chest.

The Herald laughed a little. "No buts, my friend. I'm not needed, and I don't need them. I'm not as broken as I used to be. I can control my--_urges--_and I'm as Healed as I can be. They can handle me."

Gaelan sighed. :_I don't like it._:

"But you know it's time for me to go," Tenri said.

:_There's nothing I can say that will change your mind, will it?_:

"No, there isn't," Tenri said gently. "We both knew this day would come."

:_Do you want me to tell--_:

"No," Tenri said quickly. "But thank you. I think it would be best if there were no long goodbyes. Besides," he smiled wanly. "I would have tried to fade away gently, but I don't think that would have worked. I don't think I would be gone for good then."

:_I think they deserve more than a, "Sorry, but I have to leave you now,"_: Gaelan reproached him.

Jaron's interest grew. Who the hell was Tenri going to say goodbye to? A secret lover?

"I'll figure something out," Tenri said. "For now... let's go for a ride."

He hopped onto Gaelan's bare back, and Jaron knew the talk was over.

Or--the conversation might have been over, but his burning curiosity sure as hell wasn't.

o

Larel was dancing again.

Jaron had come down to the bar again, alone this time, in hopes of just seeing her dance, and his wish had been granted. He'd walked through the door of _Chava Dreams_ to be greeted by the sight of her barely-clothed form spinning across the stage like a top, scarves flying, and this time she lost a few.

He resisted the urge to jump up on the stage and pin them back on, and instead found an empty table.

When she'd finished dancing, she came back out into the crowd, accepting several congratulations on her way toward the bar, and then she spotted Jaron. Instead of continuing on towards the bar and a well-deserved drink, she changed course and arrowed straight for him, something very like hope burning in her eyes.

She paused when she reached the table, but then he smiled at her and she dropped down into a chair, reaching over his head to signal a barmaid.

"I wasn't expecting to see you again," she said bluntly, making a hand-signal at someone behind his back.

He couldn't tear his eyes off of her to see who it was to, but then the barmaid came up behind him with two mugs of water.

She left, and Jaron leaned forward. "I couldn't not see you again," he said honestly.

"Oh," she said quickly. That hopelike emotion in her eyes brightened in its fervor.

He didn't--_couldn't_--say anything for a moment. She drank her water in one go, then his, and then took a deep breath.

"Would you like to come home with me tonight?" she asked.

"Okay," he said uncertainly, wondering if she was offering what he thought she was.

They walked along the somewhat less crowded side streets to get to her home, which turned out to be a small suite of rooms on the bottom floor of a building that looked like it had been made out of melted stone.

"This is one of the original buildings that the Stone Mage made," she told him when he asked. "They aren't very popular to live in any more, which is why I can live here."

He told her that he thought it was very nice, and then they went inside.

She left him on the couch, moving back into the small kitchen to make a pot of tea.

Nervous, Jaron surveyed the room, and then before he could stop himself, asked Gaelan for help.

The Companion didn't send any real reply to that, just wordless assurance and confidence that he would do the right thing. Then Larel came back, and there was no real time to converse with Gaelan.  
She walked slowly into the room, bringing two cups into the living area where he'd perched on her couch.

It was an inner room, so there weren't any windows, but the walls were covered in a dappled pattern of paint--purple over red, with purple being the less dominant color--and a few wall hangings here and there.

Larel handed him a cup that looked like a strange, tall mug, and sat beside him.

As he sipped and mulled over the unfamiliar flavor, he caught the sidelong glances she was giving him, and put his handleless mug down.

She copied him, and then stood up abruptly. "Is this strange?" she asked.

"Is what strange?" he asked, remaining seated.

"I don't know," she said. "It's just that I've known you for such a short time, but I feel like I've known you for years, though we've barely exchanged words beyond the current conditions of my country."

Then she dropped her weight down onto the worn couch again, this time nearer to him.

Jaron didn't miss her change in position, and finally decided to do something about it.

He turned, slowly, surely, and put his hand on her far shoulder. She didn't say anything, but her gaze flicked back and forth between his lips and his eyes, and he knew what she wanted.

He wanted it too. She might not have been wearing scarves, but the sheer fact that it was _her_ was enough for him.

Hesitantly, because he didn't want this to emulate the obscure fumblings of his half-grown Trainee days, he leaned in and kissed her.

It was a chaste movement of lips, but when they parted, Jaron felt something inside him slip home.

A moment later he was standing, one hand extended towards her. The invitation was unmistakable.

Her eyes traveled up the line of his arm and met his own gaze, and she smiled, then rose up to join him.

There was no need for words.


	7. Author's Note and Outline

So I've been doing some thinking and going through some old files on my laptop, and I've realized that it was kind of unfair to leave everyone hanging on this story while I moved on to original fiction. So I figured it would probably be a good idea to leave you guys with a recap of the first few chapters and an outline of how the story was going to end. It might be a little confusing, but since I haven't touched this story in something like three years, I'm a little fuzzy on certain details. And who knows, I may actually come back and finish this one day; the writing wasn't as bad as I thought, and shows some promise as a good fanfiction piece.

Aside from this, I'm still writing, but most of it is original lesbian fiction in the genres of fantasy, suspense, and romance. If you're interested, the fairytale-themed stuff can be found here published under this pen name, and the rest of the fiction can be found on Fictionpress under Jessica Pryce.

It was great getting back to this, and thank you for even looking at this chapter.

The Plot:

**Chapter One: **Shored/Jaron/Tenri is sent to check out the "abandoned" city.

**Chapter Two: **The original inhabitants of the city come back. They left because of a plague. Jaron finds out that this city is part of a larger country far, far to the West. It extended from a ways beyond the Pelagirs nearly a thousand leagues to the Western Ocean.

**Chapter Three: **They meet the leaders of the democracy which is the country of Shonben.

**Chapter Four: **They have to figure out what's the deal with the new country and where they came from, and whether they're dangerous or not.  
The main city is centered around Urtho's first Tower. One of the Mages, the Mage of Stone, had met up with them, and while he was more cowardly than Urtho, he had once worked with Urtho and liked him, so he helped to shelter and reunited Urtho's army, which eventually hunted down the remainder of Ma'ar's forces and eventually returned to the large settlement based around Urtho's Tower, and then did build so that the settlement became a city. Then they stayed like that, trading with the country farthest to the West of all, on the Western Ocean called Shonben, who were actively secular, and didn't believe in a god.  
It eventually caught on with the Graveldi, and they stopped believing as well. Some of the younger generations of the Graveldi in the cities call themselves and the other people in the country the 'Eldi for short.  
The country that they are in is Graveld, and it is a wide strip of land along Shonben's Eastern Border. The rest of the land between Graveld and the Eastern countries is uninhabited.  
The main city is called Graveld City.

**Chapter Five: **Then Shored has to worry about them and then he thinks about Stefen, Tylendel, and Vanyel, and convinces himself that he, Jaron, and Tenri are the reincarnated versions of them. He immediately assigns himself as Vanyel, since Vanyel was undoubtedly the most famous of the three, then Tenri is Stefen, and Jaron is Tylendel. He meets Larel, who shows him around, and slowly, he starts to like her. "He wasn't just following her around to learn about the culture. He wanted to learn more about her." Larel is also a dancer and has an upcoming performance called "Silk Road." It involves many scarves, which cover her and she dances with more of them.  
Jaron wonders what it would be like to remove those scarves. "And as he watched her whirl and tumble almost desperately across the stage, trailing fluttering scarves behind her, he wondered what it would be like to remove them one by one."

**Chapter Six: **Shored is having delusions about being Vanyel, and is trying desperately to do some cool stuff involving memories. He's getting nothing and is still gaining a false sense of self-importance. He refuses to call Jaron by his name, and instead calls him Tylendel. He's figured out that Stefen was Tylendel reincarnated, since Gaelan let something slip. He's calling Tenri Stefen, and Tenri is growing increasingly moody.  
While Tenri broods and Shored is confused, Jaron falls in love with Larel.

**Chapter Seven: **Tenri melds back into Shored and Jaron, so now it's just Shored and Jaron in the body, and they both can Fetch now. They have to deal with losing a "brother" and gaining a part of themselves. Gaelan is in severe mourning, almost like dealing with losing his Herald.

**Chapter Eight: **More mysteries, more figuring out the history of the city, more focusing on Larel and Jaron.

**Chapter Nine: **Later, Jaron finds out that he is really Stefen-Tylendel reincarnated, and that Larel is Vanyel. Jaron connects with her more than Shored does, and the whole Stefen/Tylendel thing is just the memories and stuff. There's no real Tenri-is-Stefen-and-Jaron-is-Tylendel thing, though Jaron does have more of Tylendel's memories.

**Chapter Ten: **In the end, Jaron finds out that he really is Tylendel-Stefan reincarnated (soulwise), and gets together with Larel. Shored makes the decision to merge with Jaron, giving all of Tylendel's memories that he has. Story ends on a bittersweet note, since Vanyel and Stefen-Tylendel are back, and Tenri and Shored are gone, but Jaron is now (finally) a whole person, and he becomes the diplomat to Graveld. Meanwhile, Gaelan is in mourning, possibly leaving an opening for a third book.


End file.
